


Maybe You're Concussed

by cornflakes_canvas



Category: Bastille (Band)
Genre: Cute, Doctor/Patient, First Meetings, Fluff, Hospitals, M/M, Minor Injuries, New Year's Eve, Nurses, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 20:27:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17250878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornflakes_canvas/pseuds/cornflakes_canvas
Summary: Working at the A&E on New Year's Eve is completely mad (and maybe a little bit awesome).





	Maybe You're Concussed

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year! ♥♥  
> I hope you guys have the best year and thank you so much for reading! ♥  
> (Also, please note that I have no idea how hospitals work.)

To be perfectly frank (and without trying to be a killjoy), Dan had never quite understood the appeal of overly exuberant New Year's celebrations. In his humble and sadly seldom asked for opinion, the last day of each fading year was one like any other – not a fresh start nor a second chance, but simply the passing of yet another twenty-four hours that ran through his fingers like sand.

Growing up as one of five siblings, the holiday had always been quite a bit more stressful than it was enjoyable and over the course of his school career, Dan had only taken comfort in it because he would _finally_ be able to catch up on some much-needed rest and chip away at the heaps of homework his teachers would dump on their students relentlessly. Then he had started his nurse training and the last breaths of the year had stopped being a time for deserved relaxation and family sentiment altogether – the young man began anticipating New Year's Eve with sheer horror because unsurprisingly, the holiday was one of the maddest and most hectic times of the year, seeing as local surgeries traditionally closed for a couple days, increasing the pressure on A&E departments at a time when more staff than usual were on leave. Dan had been working in accident and emergency for six years, four of them on the infamous New Year's Eve night shift – it was a _trade_ of sorts. He volunteered for most of the unpopular shifts and in return got to spend Christmas at home, eating mince pies and watching _Doctor Who_ reruns in peace, by himself.

 

At the beginning of the night, the department was usually uncharacteristically quiet, since everybody was out celebrating, lighting fireworks, raising toasts and clinking glasses ( _the lull before the storm_ , so to speak), but as soon as the pubs started closing for the night, streams of new patients weren't long in coming; they dealt with car crash victims, people who had gotten into ugly bar fights, mishandled fireworks or slipped and fallen on the wet pavement – and lots and lots of drunks. Dan genuinely felt like the only place with the potential to get _more_ tumultuous than South Bank on New Year's Eve was the A&E last year, for instance, three men had been brought in with hypothermia after roaming the streets _unclothed_ , and one of them had been stoned enough to proceed to propose to not one, but _three_ of Dan's fellow nurses.

Of course all of the extra work created by intoxicated people piled up on top of the busy department's regular workload – people were still sick and children unwell, accidents happened _en masse_ (especially considering the unexpected snowfall), and on a night like this, when everyone else was celebrating with their families, Dan regretted not being able to keep each and every lonely stranger company, to make them feel like they mattered. Tending to a seriously ill or hurt patient only to then walk back into the hallway and attempt to take down the details of a cheerful yet wallet-less drunk who didn't remember exactly where he lived or why he wasn't wearing any shoes could be challenging even for the most experienced staff. But after all, this was what he had signed up for. Dan and every one of his valued colleagues frequently sacrificed their own chance at spending time with their loved ones in order to be available to the public, but they did so with conviction and treated everybody's emergency (no matter how big or small) with compassion, respect and privacy, even though they would much rather be at home and though they usually missed the moment the clock struck midnight – caught up in trying to hold the upper hand in the unpredictable chaos that reigned around them, they would share a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne in the break room around four or five in the morning, when they finally found a minute or two to “celebrate”.

 

That was what it was like, mostly. And tonight, things seemed especially mad.

If this was any indication of how the next twelve months were going to look, the new year was most probably cursed.

 

Sometime around six in the morning, less than an hour before Dan would finally be permitted to cycle home and pass out on his bed – or to be found in the doorway by his flatmate if his legs decided to betray him – and in an unexpected moment of transitory calm, Dan swiftly removed himself from the waiting area to finally indulge in a sorely needed cup of milky coffee – only to run into a tall, kind-looking woman who stood in the hallway all by herself, hair in disarray and appearing quite disoriented, possibly anxious.

“Hello! You look a bit lost.”

 

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I ... I guess I am,” the woman admitted hesitantly, twisting her orange knit scarf around her fingers and exhaling tensely.

 

“Something I can help you with?” Dan asked calmly and forced a tired smile.

 

“I'm, um ...” She cleared her throat. “I'm here with my brother. He fell on the steps outside our parents' house and hurt his head and his arm – I didn't see it happen, so I-I'm not sure how bad it was. I don't think it's too serious and I don't wanna take up anyone's time, but I'm really not sure what I'm supposed to do a-and I'm just ...”

 

“... worried?”

Nodding, she smiled at Dan shyly and he motioned for her to lead the way back to the spacious waiting room (which was painted in a garish, supposedly _welcoming_ shade of yellow) where a number of more or less seriously hurt or generally poorly patients was still waiting to be taken care of, most of them sitting in gloomy silence.

“Don't worry, I'm sure I can help you figure out where to go. It's the least I can do, Ms ...”

 

“Simmons.”

 

“Ms Simmons, I'm Dan.”

 

The brunette walked purposefully towards the row of ungainly tangerine leather seats on the left side of the room, heading straight for a young, bearded man in a red plaid shirt who was sat all by himself, cradling his left arm, bouncing his leg and staring into space.

“Kyle, this is Dan,” Ms Simmons introduced the nurse as she settled down next to her brother, one hand squeezing his shoulder, “he's gonna help us figure out what to do.”

The dark-haired man glanced up, squinting against the bright, cold lights for a moment before he smiled and nodded politely, and Dan sat next to him and scanned his face thoroughly. His eyebrow was split and bleeding (though it had clearly been cleaned superficially), and a patch of skin on his forehead was starting to turn deep red.

 

“Hello there,” Dan greeted the stranger, unintentionally appreciating how handsome he was – with his dark, enticing eyes and slim form he was (unfortunately) _just_ his type.

“How did that happen?” he added conversationally, nodding at the scratch on the man's brow whilst inspecting his injured arm, moving it experimentally.

 

“Damn snow,” Kyle sighed in response, looking tired and annoyed, “I mean, _fuck_ – this is England, not the bloody North Pole!” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Sorry for swearing.”

 

Dan smiled. “Don't worry. Did you consume any alcohol before the fall?”

 

“It's six in the morning.”

 

“Is that a yes?”

 

“ _No_. I was in the garden, hiding chocolate for my nieces. For when they wake up.”

 

“Aren't you getting your holidays mixed up?” Dan chuckled and stood up, gesturing for the siblings to follow him to one of the vacant examination rooms.

“It's possible that he has a mild concussion,” he addressed Ms Simmons who nodded in understanding, “I don't think it's likely or anything to be overly concerned about, but we'll make sure it isn't serious anyway. No head injury should be taken lightly.”

 

The man in question appeared next to them just as Dan opened the door to _Exam Room 4_ , his brow furrowed in disapproval.

“I'm right here, you know?”

 

“You might have a mild concussion, nothing to be too worried about, but we'll make sure it's nothing serious anyway, okay?” the shorter man repeated and smiled.

 

A cheeky grin flashed across Kyle's face. “That's not _exactly_ what you told her,” he stated with a glint in his eyes and Dan arched one eyebrow.

 

“How's your arm?”

 

Following him into the bland, grey-walled room, the taller man plopped down on the narrow, paper-covered examination table while Dan opened a large drawer in search of the antibacterial solution.

“Hurts,” he replied curtly and Dan turned around to see him move his arm carefully, almost mechanically, and with a sour look on his face, “mainly the elbow.”

 

Dan hummed thoughtfully as he went about cleaning the cut on Kyle's face, wincing in sympathy as the man flinched when the biting disinfectant touched his skin.

“I'm guessing it's a sprain, so you'll probably get a sling. And painkillers.”

 

The young patient nodded sullenly, then gazed deeply into the other's eyes, seeming to study his face. Dan felt his body temperature rise significantly.

“Oh. You're kinda cute.”

 

“Kyle!” his sister huffed exasperatedly, though she didn't seem all too surprised to hear this kind of talk from her brother who resorted to shrugging his right shoulder non-committally.

 

“He is.”

 

Dan sniggered quietly, feeling his heartbeat quicken like a startled bird. “Maybe you're concussed after all.”

 

“You are though!”

 

“... _cute_?”

 

“Yeah! Especially like that.”

 

“Like what?”

 

Kyle grinned. “When you smile.”

 

Shaking his head with a deep sigh, Dan continued to tend to his patient as if the attractive man hadn't said anything out of the ordinary, disposing of his single-use gloves and jotting down a note on a chart which he left on the doctor's desk.

Ms Simmons shot him a lopsided smile.

“You don't seem bothered.”

 

Dan laughed. “What can I say, in this job I'm lucky enough to get to listen to all sorts of nonsense. No offence,” he added diplomatically and Kyle smirked.

 

“None taken. So if I, say, invited you out for a drink tonight – would you chalk that up as nonsense too?”

 

Dan stopped dead in his tracks and eyed Kyle cautiously, automatically assuming that the flirtatious patient was just joking with him and apprehensive of making a fool of himself, but as soon as he recognised the same giddy nervousness in the man's gorgeous brown eyes that he had felt many times himself, Dan couldn't contain a tender smile. Despite feeling optimistic, he spoke in a serious tone when he responded.

“You're not gonna be doing any drinking tonight. Understood?”

Kyle groaned dramatically and Dan couldn't help chuckling.

“A doctor will be in to speak with you in a minute,” he finally informed the two with a polite smile and made to leave brother and sister to themselves, but Kyle held him back by his sleeve.

 

“Listen, how about another time? For the drink, I mean.”

 

Scrutinising Kyle, Dan had to wonder just _how bad_ a mistake it would be to accept the spontaneous invitation. His job was utterly incompatible with any desultory attempts at dating, and romantic relationships never _ever_ seemed to work out for him. Feeling incredibly self-conscious under the other's questioning stare, Dan finally settled on resolving the crisis by trying to stay as discreet as possible.

“Don't ask me out in front of your sister, it makes me seem unprofessional.”

 

Kyle grinned in delight. “Is that a yes?”

 

Dan glanced briefly at Ms Simmons who was looking the other way pointedly but with a smile playing on her lips. She didn't appear to be affronted in any way and taking a deep breath, Dan raised a suggestive eyebrow at the handsome man.

“Can we agree that it isn't a _no_?”

 

A look of pure delight passed over Kyle's face. “Yes! Ah, I'm _so_ excited to see you out of those scrubs!”

His sister fell into a violent coughing fit and the man immediately flushed red, his eyes widening comically.

“No! I-I mean I'm excited to see you in, like, _casual_ clothes! Not _without_ clothes! I just wanna see what you're into! God _no_ , that's not what I-”

 

Dan grinned, feeling encouraged by the awkwardness that contrasted with the man's otherwise self-confident demeanour.

“And here I was getting excited,” he replied with feigned disappointment and Ms Simmons snorted.

With one last backward glance at the delightfully dumbstruck patient, Dan left the room with a light skip in his step and shut the door silently behind him, anxious to finally get his hands on some awfully bitter filter coffee, and as he downed the hot drink in one gulp, he kept an eye on the unassuming door, waiting for Kyle to reappear. He felt _elated_. It seemed like this man he had met less than twenty minutes ago brought out a playfulness and a boldness in him that he hadn't known before – but could _definitely_ get used to. He was almost able to fool himself into believing that he himself was _confident_ when Kyle was flirting with him – as if his heart weren't jumping into his throat every time their eyes met for a fraction of a second.

The door to _Exam Room 4_ did finally open and the siblings emerged, shaking the doctor's hand with courteous smiles. A small square bandage was covering Kyle's brow and his arm rested securely in a dark red sling whose colour matched the shade of the plaid shirt that was draped over his shoulders like a blanket, and Dan couldn't help gazing at the exposed and beautifully tanned curve of the man's neck for a moment – until Kyle noticed him staring and a small smirk immediately appeared on his face, which in turn prompted Dan to blush deeply. He cleared his throat when the injured man approached him slowly.

 

“Hey you,” Kyle sighed and Dan smiled compassionately – the other looked knackered.

 

“Hi. Heading home?”

 

“Yeah, you wanna come with? I could do with a cuddle.”

 

Dan shook his head and laughed. Where on earth did this guy get the confidence to talk to total strangers as if he had known them forever?

“I'm afraid my presence is still required here.”

 

“My hero,” Kyle murmured, staring at him intently and with affection shining in his eyes.

“You're not _kinda_ cute, you know. You're, like, _really_ cute.”

 

Looking down at his shoes, the nurse smiled to himself. “Shut up.”

 

“So, uh ... give me your number?”

 

Dan glanced up at the taller man, at the barely concealed excitement and the hint of nervousness on his face – what did he have to lose, really? So he sighed in mock desperation, gently grasped the man's uninjured hand in his own and wrote his phone number across Kyle's palm with blue marker. Their eyes met in silent communication as Dan brushed a gentle thumb over the other's knuckles and squeezed his hand lightly.

 

“Won't I get ink poisoning?”

 

“Get out of here,” Dan laughed, “and don't wash your hand!”

 

Kyle beamed at him. “Not something I thought I'd ever be told at the hospital,” he admitted, winking before he followed his sister who was heading towards the entrance area, waving and smiling gratefully at the tired nurse. Kyle bit his lip as he locked eyes with Dan one more time before walking out, seemingly hesitant to leave, and the older man shoved his hands in the pockets of his scrubs, leaning on the reception desk and trying to look as nonchalant as possible while his arms were littered with goosebumps.

“See you real soon, yeah?”

 

“Yeah, see ya,” Dan murmured, watching him disappear out of sight and hoping that in this case, _soon_ actually meant _tomorrow_.

 

Feeling a boost of adrenaline course through his veins, he couldn't stop grinning to himself, even when his colleague motioned for him to help her handle a particularly _difficult_ patient and he was thrown right back into his unglamorous work routine.

 

Maybe the new year wasn't cursed after all.

 


End file.
